My paper for Intro to Theatre actually turned out a LOT better than I thought it would:
Me
Unique
Fragile
Ever-changing
Seemingly insignificant in crowds but there is strength in numbers
These are but a fraction of the attributes that apply to snow-and Emily Christine Usher.
Floating along in this world of grief and pain, in an instance I could be vanquished, but I am stronger than I look. When little by little the things that make up who I am are pieced together, my creator fearfully and wonderfully molds me into a magnificent, one of a kind creation-much like a child’s snow-man.
It is not just the adding of components that makes me who I am, however. Quite often it takes a little pushing away, compacting, and removing certain aspects that creates something beautiful in me-like a snow angel.
But life isn’t always a beautiful masterpiece. I’ve had snow-plows push me into corners and scrape all the dirt up with me and it is not pretty. While in the morning I may be fresh and un-touched by the un-pleasantries of the day, by noon, without a doubt, I will be tread upon by ignorant souls who just had to go there-off the path, into my quiet place where I thought I couldn’t be harmed. While every aspect of me is unique in and of itself, rarity is not always a desirable quality. It is better to be like everyone else, in the world’s eye, and being a Christian with such a reckless passion for my savior as I have is making a conscious decision to be ridiculed.
Now…obviously snow doesn’t consciously decide to be snow. It just is. But in the same way, I am a child of God. It would be impossible for a single snowflake to suddenly decide to turn into hail as it plummeted towards the ground, as it would be equally impossible for me to wake up one morning and decide God didn’t make me-and I wouldn’t want to.
Every piece of me was formed in an intricate fragile pattern and if you were to break each one of those I would no longer exist. But what happens when snow falls and piles up? When two loving hands pick it up and form it into a ball and make it theirs? When that child who loves his snowball so much brings it to his freezer to save forever? He’ll look at his masterpiece every day and think “My goodness, what a lovely snowball…I made that.”
I am that snowball.
I am cherished.
I am beautiful.
I am weak…but He makes me strong.